Page 137 of The Woman By the Lake

Chartering A Plane

Nadia

“I have a theory,” I announced on our way to Storm’s house after we left the Bohannans.

“Sock it to me,” Riggs invited.

“I sense from what we discussed with Cade, and what you two were talking about, plus what you found this morning, this someone from the Whitaker debacle possibly looking for something, might also be the ‘ghosts’ who chased people off the property. I mean, if whatever it is, is a big deal, like worth money, whoever owns the property actually now owns whatever that is. And before you bought it, whoever it is might not be someone who’s supposed to have whatever it is they’re looking for. This means, they couldn’t exactly have people around while they were looking for it.”

“Sorry, honey, but we already came up with that theory when I talked Harry into opening the file.”

“Oh.”

No wonder that had been the bent of their conversation.

“Forgot to mention it,” he said.

“That’s okay.”

He kept driving.

I went after something else that was on my mind.

“Does Harry have a partner?”

“The sheriff doesn’t normally work with a partner.”

“No, I mean in life.”

His response was openly guarded. “Why do you ask?”

I looked to him. “Is it a secret? Is he gay or something and there are shitty homophobes around who’d have a problem with it?”

“No. But you said he was awesome earlier, and now you’re asking if he has a partner, and last night, and the night before, and so on, you been fucking me, so gotta wonder why the interest in Harry.”

Now I was staring at him.

I did that awhile before I said, “Riggs, I’m only not laughing my ass off right now because I don’t think you’d appreciate it, considering that’s ridiculous.”

“He’s a good-lookin’ guy.”

“He’s nowhere near as good-looking as you. And I doubt he makes brats as good as you, because, as far as I can tell, no one can. And I don’t know if he’s a dad, but he’d have fierce competition to be a better one than you. And I wouldn’t like being able to make him smile as much I like making you smile, because I don’t like making anyone smile as much as I like to do that for you. And I love my very dearly departed husband, and he didn’t stink in this department, but he was nowhere near as good in bed as you. Do I need to go on?”

“No,” he grunted.

“Is this a macho-man jealousy thing?” I pressed.

He didn’t answer.

The things his mother said, not to mention what he said, hit me like a bullet.

“Riggs, you’re all that,” I said quietly.

“Okay,” he said quickly.

“You really are.”

Riggs had no comment.

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